


One For The Road

by HeartEyesTurner



Category: Arctic Monkeys
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:07:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23958928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartEyesTurner/pseuds/HeartEyesTurner
Summary: Alex Turner and an ice cold beer on a sticky summer evening
Relationships: Alex Turner (Musician)/Reader
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this imagine awhile back to torture myself at work. At the time it was the dead of winter and I was yearning for summer. Still am. I’m posting this today because I’m dreaming about the way Alex looked at the end of the AM tour in South America, his long vampire hair and all those tight shirts and jeans. I’m also thinking about the way he looks drinking an ice cold beer on a summer evening. 
> 
> Here’s a taste; it’s short and sweet and will definitely leave you thirsty for more. xx

But mostly like this:

The party’s dying down, and there’s only a few people left to leave. Your nerves have you because you know that the second they’re gone, he’s going to be all over you. He’s had just enough to drink to be flirtatious and touchy-feely while still being completely cool and sexy. 

He’s been giving you these looks all night; like he’s going to devour you. In his eyes you can tell it’s a promise he intends to keep, and you can’t sit still. The thought of what he’s planning to do when you have the house to yourself has you squirming, uncomfortable and anxious. 

His hand keeps finding it’s way to your thigh, during conversation, just casually resting there, cool and damp from the beer bottle he never seems to be without. Every once and awhile his thumb strokes you a little, as a reminder, in case you forgot that he’s _right there_ and he wants you. And he’s going to have you. 

It’s so balmy and hot, and the windows and doors are all open, the mugginess from the bodies packed in everywhere hasn’t quite yet left the atmosphere. It’s so steamy and sticky and you’re thirsty, a feeling you won’t be able to satiate until he’s got you. You’re sweating, feeling the dampness between your breasts, at the back of your neck, everywhere. You’re hot from the weather and from the thought of him. Your relationship is still relatively new and thrilling; he’s kept you on your toes with the way he teases you always. 

Alex walks them out, telling them to have a good night, and makes a detour into the kitchen to grab another couple beers before he’s back standing over you. Your desire was relief, but he wasn’t here to deliver that, was he? If anything, you were more jittery, your stomach fluttering with butterflies, more so than before; because now you’re all alone. 

The bottles were dripping, all over your thighs, droplets of condensation sliding down your legs. You jump at first, and he’s watching you, eyeing you with delight by what he’s done. He takes a long swig from his drink, and you can’t take your eyes off of him. The way the muscles in his throat move, watching him swallow the delicious, refreshing beverage. You swallow yourself, your throat tight. 

He looks like something from your wettest dreams; black jeans and boots, and a black t-shirt stretched across his sinewy limbs. It looks soft to the touch, and you feel your fingers aching at the sight of the muscles in his chest, his nipples that are so visible through the fabric. Why isn’t he sweating? Why does he look so fucking perfect when the house feels like a sauna and you’re practically melting into a puddle beneath him?

Alex wipes his mouth when he’s finished, and he’s gazing down at you with hooded, heavy-lidded bedroom eyes. They’ve gone completely black, to match the rest of his outfit probably; and they’re intense despite their alcohol-induced haziness. He’s fixated on you, can’t stop staring; undressing you. He licks his lips as his gaze rests on your thighs, and without another thought, he’s holding the melting bottles over you. 

He’s on his knees.

The knot in the pit of your stomach gets tighter, and your bodies wound tight; you know what he’s down there for. He’s gone down on you only a handful of times before; so the concept is still relatively new for you. 

“It’s hot… innit?” He drawls, his voice as deep and thick as the moisture in the air.

You can’t seem to find your voice. You’ve misplaced it. Suddenly. Swallowing hard, you nod your head. 

“Mmm…” He hums, and he’s taking another sip; watching his left hand push up the bottom of your innocent sundress, slowly revealing the tops of your thighs. He smirks, pleased with what he sees. He pushes your legs open easily, on account of your boneless body, all loose limbs as you sink into the couch. It’s from the heat, and from him, and he knows it; but you’re embarrassed just the same. 

For a second you think of snapping your legs closed and escaping because you’re not sure if you can handle what’s about to happen.

“Wot’s this…?” He murmurs, noting the dampness between your thighs. His knuckles brush against you through your panties, rubbing up and down in slow, torturous strokes. A whimper escapes your lips and your cheeks flush because it happened to fast for you to stop it. 

Slowly, he lifts his eyes to catch yours, “Feels good, yeah?” 

He says it thickly, his heavy accent setting you on fire from the inside. “Yes.” You whisper, and he’s smirking. 

He’s got an idea.

His fingers stroke lazily down your sticky thighs, and he grabs one of the ice cold bottles he’s set aside. You’re studying his every move, and he’s got his sights set on the bottle, watching, amused as the condensation drips onto your heated skin. You’re so hot it surprises you that the droplets don’t sizzle and pop like grease in a pan. He’s dragging the bottle along the inside of your thighs. It’s icy cold and giving you the chills; the kind that start at your spine and send a blinding white rush burning all the way up your back. 

He’s taking another sip, that devilish smirk still on his lips because he’s a fucking tease and he knows it. A moment later, he’s pressed the bottle right up against your throbbing pussy, and you growl out a low moan, aching as he puts pressure on it; tilting it so it angles into your clit. It’s made you wet, your panties soaking in the condensation in spots so every time you shift, there’s a cool bit of fabric brushing against you. 

There’s that look in his eyes again, fiery and full of desire; like he’s ready to cause some trouble. 

“Are yeh thirsty, love?” He asks you and you nod, unsure of where he’s going with this.

Taking a sip from his own beer, he leans up on his knees, pressing his body against the bottle that’s still pressed tight to you. You incline your head just a little, arching towards his mouth. He covers your lips with a cold, wet kiss, some of the beer in his mouth slipping into yours. It’s only a little and nowhere near enough to make your throat feel any less dry. His tongue teases you, the bitterness from the hops tingling your lips. You moan into his open mouth as he pulls away, setting back on his heels again. 

“Yeh’re hot babeh,” He confirms, pushing your dress up higher as he moves the ice cold bottle away from your pussy and tilts in downwards, completely soaking the crotch of your panties. “Let’s cool yeh down some.”


	2. Chapter 2

You cry out as the cool liquid hits you, drenching you even more so than your already were. He’s smirking because he can see every bit of you through your thin cotton panties, and he shifts his hips against the edge of the couch, rubbing against it to hopefully relieve some of the tension. 

“Alex…” You whimper, your voice a whisper as he discards the bottles, his hands crawling up your legs, wet and icy cold as they push you farther apart. 

He’s leaning down into you now, and you both lick your lips in anticipation. You watch as he lowers his mouth to press it against you, his lips and breath so hot in contrast to the coolness of the fabric. Your body’s shaking, and he places his hands on your hips to hold you steady. His tongue is lapping at you, long, languid strokes, and his nose is pressed against your clit. You whimper and laugh because he feels so fucking good. 

He moans, and it’s vibrating through you, your body buzzing, humming at high voltage. Your legs are trembling as his tongue now occupies the spot where his nose just was. He flicks it out to tease that bundle of nerves wound so tight and sensitive. The fabric that’s keeping him from really tasting you is both a nuisance and an incredible turn on, and you knot your fingers in his greased up hair, pushing his head closer to you so you can grind against his face.

You feel him chuckle before you hear it, and he purses his lips, sucking at the dampness of your panties, the gust of his warm breath setting you on fire. His fingers hook into the sides and he pulls back as you lift your hips, and you’re suddenly cooperating, trying to be helpful, especially if it means it’ll bring his mouth closer to you in any way. He slips them past your knees and tosses them aside, grabbing for a bottle again. 

He’s taking a long swig, and you moan, writhing in anticipation of what’s coming next. His long, cool fingers push open your folds, and his cold, wet mouth is is pressed up against the entrance to your pussy, his lips kissing you hard. His tongue flicks out, teasing you, doing laps against your clit. He’s got the bottle poised and ready to pour, tilting it again and watching the amber liquid descend from the flat area of your stomach and down between your thighs. It foams up as it cascades down your hot skin, and he’s groaning, keeping you spread open for him so he can watch the beer make a little stream across you. 

He leans in to lick you, “Mmm, yeh taste so good babeh.”

You’re muttering curse words, arching your hips up into his face, your hands back in his hair. He let’s you ride his mouth, grinding against his face. He loves it, loves that he’s opened you up enough that you’re no longer shy, that you’re now begging him to give you more, and it’s so fucking sexy. 

He palms himself, rubbing up against the couch as he eats you out, desperate for his own release. He works his belt open as he strokes your entrance, thrusting his fingers inside you with no warning. You arch your back, pushing yourself into him, your moans turning him on and helping him get off. You’re barely holding yourself together now and he knows it.

“Cum for meh, love…” He urges you on, his mouth and words electric. “I wanna taste it.”

He curls his fingers inside you, teasing that sweet spot as he licks you, sending you spiraling. With your eyes shut tight, your hips rock into him, riding his mouth and fingers. It comes in successions, in hot, delicious waves, as he continues to lap at you. He grips your waist and pulls you down to the edge of the couch as your body shakes and shudders. Your skin makes a sick sucking sound as it streaks down the leather fabric, the heat and sweat making you stick. You’re watching him in a daze as he sits up and unzips his fly, his thick cock, hard and throbbing as he presses it against your entrance. 

Alex thrusts in all the way, too anxious to take it slow. He needs you now, just as much as you need him. You scream out, your body bowing again as he pulls you down on him. His arm slides under your back, bringing you closer, holding you tight. The room is stifling, and you’re suffocating from him and his desire to get you both off. 

He’s exactly what you wanted, what you were craving to quench your thirst, even though his hot, thick cock was nothing like the welcoming coolness of the beer bottle. 

“Fuck, babeh… yeh’re so tight, so fuckin’ wet…” He growls, sweating heavily now, his greased up hair falling into his eyes. Drops of sweat bead down his hairline and his jaw until they’re falling on you. He’s thrusting hard and quick and hurried, no discernible rhythm because he wants you so bad he can taste it. 

“Oh baby, please… please cum for me, cum on me…” You moan breathlessly, the first real words you’ve said this entire time, and it’s done him in. “Please, I wanna feel you…” You pant, clutching at his t-shirt until your knuckles turned white.

He groans as he grinds against you, his slender hips rocking into you, his body arching over you. He pulls you to him until you’re both a mess of tangled up limbs on the edge of the leather..

“Gonna cum, babeh… gonna cum for yeh…” He groans, his voice hoarse; barely able to complete a sentence. 

Your ankles lock behind his back, urging him to fuck your harder, and you grab for his neck, digging your fingers into his hair at the nape. He can feel you squeezing around him, so tight and wet and hot as you pull at him, begging him on the inside just as much as you have with your words.

You’re moaning his name and uttering expletives, dizzy from the heat and from him. He grunts, pitching his hips forward as he falls against you, thrusting into you as his orgasm starts coming in hot, sticky bursts. He pulls out halfway and finishes on your stomach, covering you with his release. It’s streaked up just beneath your breasts, and it’s so hot; both his cum and the last twenty minutes or so that he’s managed to tease you, lick you, and fuck you senseless. 

He groans, sighing as his body trembles in the aftermath, collapsing against you as you slump down into the couch, completely spent. The heat’s been too much for you to handle, and he’s heaving, catching his breath against you before he sits up and finally removes the black shirt. Your breathing is so erratic as you try to catch it, and he reaches for a bottle, offering it to you first. You giggled and nearly finish he whole thing before handing it back to him. 

He shakes it with a pout, and grabs another, gulping it down. “Ahhh…” He sighs with satisfaction, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and bringing the still icy bottle to his neck to cool himself down. After a second he reaches forward and does the same to you. It’s such a relief, so damp and cool and refreshing. 

“This was easily the hottest thing we’ve ever done.” You simper quietly, your body a complete mess. “Literally and figuratively,”

He rests his bottle against your thighs again, drinking in the sight of you and how you look all wild beneath him. “Undo the rest of yehr dress love; and weh’ll take a dip in the pool.”

An hour later, you were buzzed and love drunk, your arms around Alex’s neck as you bobbed in the cool blue water. 

“Do you know what it’s the perfect night for?” You ask him, feeling bold and flirtatious, completely unlike the version of you sitting shyly on the couch only a few hours before.

“Mmm,” He growls, his mouth latching to your neck in an open-mouthed kiss. “Tell meh.”

He’s naked and soft and sexy looking under the glow and you really can’t resist him. Not anymore. Not now when you know what he’s capable of. 

“It’s the perfect night for you to fuck me in this pool.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can also [find me on Tumblr](https://hearteyesturner.tumblr.com/).


End file.
